The file was light and when she opened it, she found a single photograph and a sheet of paper. She scanned it quickly; just bare details. The photo showed a pretty girl, slightly plump with dark hair and a sweet smile.
“There’s something else,” Ryan said. “She’s not the first girl to go missing. There was another last week.”
Roz glanced at his face. His expression was grim, and she knew this wasn’t going to have a happy ending.
“She was found dead less than forty-eight hours after she went missing.”
“How did she die?”
“Well, that’s the odd thing. Exsanguination. She’d been drained of blood. Real weird shit. Some of the guys think we’re dealing with a cult. Ritual sacrifice—witches or something.”
He gave her an odd glance, and a flash of anger tore through her. Ryan knew her better than anyone did. He was the first person she had opened up to in fifteen years of being Rosamund Fairfax. Then something like this happened, and he was looking at her as if she were some sort of monster.
It was fire-wielding fucking peasants all over again. No clue what they faced, so they just presumed it was evil. She gritted her teeth. “I’ve never actually sacrificed anyone,” she ground out.
“Hey, I never said you had.”
“You were thinking it.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
A black cat weaved its way in from the kitchen, distracting her attention from Ryan. “Shit,” she muttered. Just what she needed. Her night off was turning out real great.
“Hey, nice cat,” Ryan said. “I didn’t know you had any pets.”
“It’s not a nice cat, and I don’t. It’s a nasty, mangy stray, and it can get the hell out of my house.” And perhaps it wasn’t the right time to mention that the cat wasn’t always a cat. She got up, stalked across the room, and opened the door to the hallway. “Out.”
It stared up at her with cunning green eyes then tiptoed out of the door. She slammed it behind the animal and took a deep breath. And another. Finally, she sat back down, picked up her drink, and sipped.
“Sorry,” Ryan said.
She glared. “What for?”
He grinned, showing slightly crooked white teeth. “Actually, I really have no clue.”
Roz sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Okay, maybe she’d overreacted. She refilled his glass as a peace sign and turned her attention to the photograph.
Resting her fingertips against the smooth paper, she willed herself to “see.” Nothing came to her. After a minute, she shook her head.
She was exhausted, and that never helped. There were also certain things she could do that would assist—but she’d only resort to those if all else failed. And certainly not in front of Ryan or he’d be back to thinking she was some sort of monster.
“You’ll keep trying?” Ryan asked.
“Of course.”
“I have a feeling we’re running out of time on this one.”
So did she. Exsanguination. She’d heard rumors over the centuries but never felt the urge to chase up answers. She wanted no part of that world. Or at least as little to do with it as possible.
“I’ll leave you then,” Ryan said. “I have to get back to work.”
“Okay. I’ll call if I find anything.”
Ryan stood up and placed his glass down on the table. He nodded to the sofa. “I think your other visitor has gone to sleep on you.”
Roz glanced at where Sister Maria was slumped in the corner against the cushions, her eyes closed, dark lashes shadowing her pale cheeks.
“Yeah, it’s been a long day,” Roz said.
“I bet, and sometime you’re going to tell me about it, right?”
“Wrong.”
Briefly, she wished she could open up to Ryan. But how could she mix anyone up in her fucked-up existence?
After showing Ryan out, she went back to the sofa, touching Maria lightly on the shoulder. The sister let out a squeak then blinked. “Sorry, I’m a little jumpy.”
“No problem. Why don’t you take a shower and get some rest?”
She nodded but stayed where she was. “Who are you?”
“I told you—Roz. That’s all you need to know.”
“You’re a good person, Roz.”
“Yeah, of course I am. I’m a positive angel. Come on, I’ll show you where everything is.”